


The Harmony of Hope

by Lunarium



Series: SSSS: Saga of the Mages (aka Mageverse) [2]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Darkfic, Enemies to Friends, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Horror, Hotakainen family backstory, Implied/non-graphic rape, Kallohonka, Language Barrier, M/M, Mage Battle, Near Death Experiences, Stalking, Teamwork, Torture, kade - Freeform, non-major character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-08 03:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7741738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lalli unites with his new friend in the heart of the forest, away from the team's camp, only to discover he has walked into a kade's trap. Sequel to " A Melody of His Memories."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the sequel to [A Melody of His Memories](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7027810)! This one will be a two-part fic, so the next installment is in the works. :) 
> 
> This one is pretty brutal, as Valttu is a horrifying villain, although I tried to keep things as vague and implied as I can, but I erred on the side of caution in terms of the tags. Although it’s marked as darkfic, there will be a happy and hopeful ending. This *is* part of my ‘verse after all. :) 
> 
> Prompts used: 82. Can You Hear Me? (100 SSSS Prompts Challenge) and stalkers (H/C Bingo)

The heart of the forest loomed closer. He could nearly smell the campfire of the group of mages up ahead, including the man among them with whom he had spoken in his dream. 

Valttu. The name made his heart leap excitedly. Friend. A companion away from his foul team, especially that Reynir, and a friend with an offering to make his redemption. He, and they, could be great, together. 

He ran past the woman without seeing her, but she did not miss him.

*

Though far older than the mage, her eyes were just as sharp, and she glimpsed enough of the boy to know his nationality and that he was rather young. Nothing in his aura distressed her, but another energy lingered in the air linking him to another, darker energy pulsing somewhere inside the forest. That source was the reason for her being here.

The bastard had come here, his presence the faintest flicker lurking in the shadows with all intentions to lure in a victim.

But why would Valttu be drawing this particular boy towards him, she wondered before the pieces fell into place and her eyes widened. 

“Could that be Hotakainen?” she said under her breath. “Odd he would be here in the world, but that would explain Valttu being here…” The more she thought, the sicker she felt. Hotakainen was probably too young to know the details; she herself had to dig through a bit into the family history, interview several, before finding all she needed to know about the fated family and their predatorily kade after her own unfortunate entanglement with him. Soon Hotakainen’s screams would fill the forest, if the boy was lucky enough. If Valttu allowed him that mercy. 

“Poor thing, to not have known the truth,” she muttered. By now he may have already left this world; she would not know. Valttu was somewhere, but she could not pinpoint his location, cloaked away from all senses, intent on only letting the Hotakainen boy in. 

Pulling out her rune-carving knife, she began her slow march deeper into the forest.

*

The glare that turned towards Reynir were not Lalli's eyes. Sure, the color were the same light grey Reynir saw the day before, the same disdain the boy had towards him, but today there was something else: a fire lit from behind, a madness, as though he were—

The words failed Reynir as he watched Lalli run past his cousin, yelling something to her; he wasn’t sure Tuuri even had the chance to finish her sentence. The flush and the glare that crossed her face was warning for Reynir not to approach with any inquiries over her cousin’s behavior in case it made the situation worse. 

Instead he took to standing there pondering over what he had just glimpsed. It had happened so fast he could almost deny its existence, but he knew he shouldn’t. That something in Lalli’s eyes wasn’t a figment of Reynir’s own imagination. Whatever it was, it made him forget what he wanted to tell Lalli—a foolish thought, Reynir realized, as they couldn’t understand one another in the waking world. 

Reynir knew Lalli didn’t like him for entering his Haven before, uninvited and shouting loud enough to jar him from his sleep. He promised he wouldn’t do it again until he was welcomed inside, if only fate would allow him that chance. More often than not his mind had been pulled into some prophetic dream that he hadn’t had much opportunity to explore around or speak with Lalli. He was getting desperate to ask Lalli about magic. Onni had said their magic were too different, but perhaps Lalli knew something, even a little detail that could help. At least they could both talk in dreams, if the boy would just give him a chance at being his friend. 

Just then Emil passed by, grumbling something that Reynir could not understand while throwing glares where Lalli had been moments before. Reynir hadn’t witnessed the fight, but he knew the two friends had had a row recently. It was so odd. He accepted Lalli pushing him away for his untimely introduction, but why had he also pushed Emil away? 

And that glare…Lalli could be distant, disgruntled, easily annoyed, appear bored among their group (or possibly lonely), but never outright _hostile_. 

Reynir glanced to Tuuri, then to Mikkel, his concern bubbling to the surface of his lips, but seeing how they merely shrugged off Lalli’s oddness and just resumed their activities before bedtime, he sighed in resignation and joined them. 

What with all the thoughts rolling in his head, he wasn’t aware of when he managed to fall into sleep.

*

Lalli’s eyes glowed as he sped down the forest, his heart about to leap out of his mouth at the thought of his friend just out of reach. The stars shone cold and silver against the thicket of leaves above him.

The path led him to a glade where a small campfire had been set. The starlight blessed the lone figure at the glade who gazed up in quiet meditation, a sight that stilled Lalli instantly. With one hand upon a nearby tree, Lalli leaned against it as he studied the other mage with awe. He was just as handsome here as in his dream: the picture of perfection, every inch of him giving off magic and the sense of _home_. 

“Valttu, I come.” 

“Lalli?” Valttu turned around quickly as if taken by surprise, his eyes wide for a moment before delight shone on his fair features. “You are so silent, like a fox, that I did not hear you approach! Welcome, my friend!” 

Lalli took his hand, his heart bursting in his chest at seeing Valttu’s handsome smile up close. The words were theirs, each syllable the sound of home and familiarity. One touch, and Lalli felt the great surge of wondrous magic that flowed inside Valttu’s veins enter him; they filled him with strength, valor, wonderment, and content; and as Valttu stepped closer and peered into his eyes Lalli understood the unspoken invitation, learning another trait they shared. The campfire light highlighted the grey among the wheat-colored hues of Valttu’s hair. Breathing in, Lalli nodded and reached up, closing his eyes. 

Sighing contently, he felt Valttu close the space between them and claim his lips. His first kiss, with one so great. Valttu filled him with star-fire and his own bottomless rushing swirl of magic, lifting Lalli’s own spirit up, and by the time Valttu pulled back, Lalli fell forward, weak-kneed and needing to lean against Valttu for support. 

“When are the rest of your camp returning?” Lalli asked. 

“My camp?” Valttu asked, the corners of his lips perked into the tiniest of a grin. “Whatever do you mean?” 

“In the dream, you said—”

“It was just a dream, friend!” Valttu laughed. “They are senseless! Take in no stock in what people say in them!” 

“But…” Lalli shook his head slightly, the motion dizzying him. Mage dreams were different; he had been really speaking with Valttu, and Valttu had mentioned he was among a group. 

And why was he suddenly feeling so odd? 

Sensing his distress, Valttu patted his shoulder. “A little dizzy there, love? So am I. You leave me exhilarated, Lalli Hotakainen.” 

A smile was all it took to bring clarity back to Lalli, who laughed, feeling his strength returning. Then he peered into Valttu’s eyes, and something began to tick.

*

The Hotakainen and Hollola families had made a settlement in Saimaa more than a month after the outbreak, and they were accompanied by a few other families, among them a Sami family with a small child named Láilá. Her own magic had been woken very early on to the point she could perceive it in others merely by a glance. She and the youngest member of the Hotakainen family, Ensi Taika, had become fast friends, partners in crime, and magical mischief. And as they grew up together, they grew closer. By the time they reached their twenties, they married.

Together they worked among the mages of Saimaa as leaders, two powerful witches who were well-known and respected within and outside the community: Ensi Taika with her words that compelled her people forward and Láilá who was gifted in writing poems and songs. Around that time a new program, a prototype that would later become the Dagrenning Program, was underway. Though no such program now exists in Finland, a Finnish scientist and genetic researcher, Dr. Hellä Kivi-Karhu, had conducted the prototype research in hopes of ensuring immunity among new generations. Birth rates had dropped as a result of the disease, as families feared bringing children into a world that would only end tragically. But this program, Dr. Kivi-Karhu had wished, would extend hope and opportunity for families to grow. 

It also offered options for individuals to have children without partners, and for same-sex couples to have their genetic information fused in test tubes, a feat unheard of before. Ensi Taika and Láilá took the opportunity, though they were past forty in age, and Láilá, seeing herself as stronger in body and magic, offered to carry their child. 

Though they opted for one child, the egg she was implanted with had split into two and they were blessed with twin girls who they named Laina and Aina. 

While the program was successful in some aspects, it had not proven to bring complete immunity, not even between twins. Laina tested immune. Aina tested non-immune. The program eventually crumbled, though later it would appear as the Dagrenning Program used extensively in Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark under a different researching team. 

But, Ensi Taika and Láilá were happy with their daughters and raised them with the utmost love and adoration, making them the image of the perfect happy family. 

It would, of course, draw the attention of a kade like Valttu.

He approached the family with the warmest of smiles and praises and handshakes, winning each of them over. Such a sly kade he was, so clever and great in cloaking his true identity that when Láilá accepted to be his mentor, it would not be until much later before she—Láilá, who could perceive the magic in others with a mere glance—saw the truth in his eyes.

But by then it was too late.

*

Patting the sheepdog’s head, Reynir turned towards the pathway that led to Lalli’s Haven. The fylgja barked and wagged his tail but did not hold Reynir back as he made his way out of his own Haven.

Sighing, Reynir settled at the edge of his Haven, his legs dangling over the edge, feet just barely in the black dream-water. From here he had the perfect view into Lalli’s own Haven, though it was empty without its occupant. 

“I wish you wouldn’t keep pushing me away,” he said out loud. “I meant nothing barging in. I have two brothers, and my dad is sometimes like that too—he just storms right into my room to wake me up because I’ve been oversleeping and ended up neglecting my morning duties at the farm! I didn’t know that was rude! We just do it all the time at home.”

He turned towards his dog and shrugged. “I like Lalli. But it’s like he never wants anything to do with any of us, not even Emil, and I thought they were friends. Then this evening he acted so strange and I don’t know what’s going on.” He drew a heavy sigh and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I wish he could, just once, open up to me.”

*

Why were Valttu’s eyes so familiar? They should have filled him with joy, with the sense of home— _Saimaa_ —but a tiny seed of suspicion had planted in the back of Lalli’s mind and now the voice grew louder, telling him to step back, even as his lips yearned to kiss Valttu again.

Lalli’s eyes fell on Valttu’s left hand, noticing a red scar, an odd shape, but also familiar— _Trust no one with the mark_ , his grandmother’s words rang out in his mind. 

Valttu left his side to tend to the fire of the campsite, humming the same tune in the dream. It set Lalli’s mind at ease, the melody of his memories, and instinctively he sang along before every single on his arms stood on end, his mouth instantly drying, the sudden realization hitting him like a bullet. Valttu glanced over his shoulder, his fair face illuminated by the fire and embers before, smiling at Lalli before returning to the logs. 

Lalli stared, silent and stunned. 

Valttu was not meant to know _this_ song. 

“I have to go,” Lalli said weakly. “My captain needed me to do something, and if I do not report to her in the morning, she will not be pleased.” 

“Have we not already discussed our plans for tonight?” Valttu said, laughing good-naturedly. “Your return will bring them news and loot none will ever anticipate, or ever think to match!” 

“No. This…doesn’t feel right.” 

Lalli made to leave, but Valttu got to his feet, reaching Lalli in two quick paces and grabbed hold of his wrist. 

“This doesn’t? You felt differently moments before.” 

The words spoken weren’t filled with any ounce of anger. The amusement were, if anything, ever present, the bright eyes twinkling, crow’s feet on the handsome face showing with the smile. But the ill feeling continued to coil like poisonous snakes in Lalli’s belly, a thick metallic taste sitting on his lips. 

“Please, let me go,” Lalli said firmly. “I’ve changed my mind. I must return to my camp.” 

Valttu smiled but neither said anything nor loosened his hold of Lalli’s arm. The energy was fast slipping out of him, the sickly feeling poisoning each breath. Rage pounded in Lalli’s temples, and he raised his head, the insult and demand mingled with the spell just about to pour out of him when he peered right into Valttu’s eyes—and froze with terror. The demon, hidden from sight, just making itself known, uncloaking itself in Valttu’s eyes, his lust and greed and hunger now poised on him. 

Chuckling darkly, Valttu produced the red-hot blade he had been stoking the fire with. All breath left Lalli upon seeing it, but he couldn’t pull himself away from Valttu’s grasp. The magical hold on him was far stronger than him. 

“Don’t reject me, dear young Lalli,” Valttu’s smooth, seductive voice said next to his ear. “I have been following you for years, as I have your mother, your father, and your grandmothers. I am so eager to properly get to know you as I have known them. Please do not rudely shut the door on your own kin: Valttu Hotakainen.”

*

Veeti Hollola wasn’t as lucky as his cousin Ensi Taika. She had been born with magic, coming from two parents whose magic were just making themselves known. But neither Tuuli nor Eino showed any sign of the gift nor any hint of ever developing it in the future, as the young Sami girl Láilá declared. He laughed off his disappointment, but inside he was hurt. He played the games on his handheld console. He read the novels. He even checked the myths behind the magic that was waking up in the world again while the world was falling ill, and yet it wasn’t good enough to become a mage. It wasn’t fair.

While the surviving world obsessed itself with magic, he turned his obsessions to the mechanics. After leaving their boat behind, Veeti returned daily to study each component till he mastered ever facet of the boat. Then he took the it apart, selling parts where he saw it would bring him good money, and building more equipment from his earnings. 

By adulthood, he had become renowned for his boating equipment. Everything from gadgets to raw materials for boat building, he made and sold. All types of paddles and oars for sculling lined the walls, he sold them all. His business came from customers ranging from families seeking supplies for their small privately owned boats to large cooperations, including the esteemed Viking Line. It was sometimes enough to make Veeti Hollola forget the old bitterness that he did not develop magic. To save himself from returning to those thoughts, he kept his distance from Ensi Taika and her ilk. 

His first wife, Satu Hämäläinen, gave him three children, but none of them displayed any sign of magic, and for that he was strangely thankful. Nor had any of their children, and that was good. Money and boating equipment was all they needed in life, as far he had become concerned, long forgetting his younger life of wonder at myths and fiction and video games.

Jealousy poisoned his heart towards anyone who showed even a small drop of magic. When Satu mentioned that her sister had developed magic later in life, decades after the disease spread, his heart instantly froze towards her and never thawed. He cast her out of his house. By then Veeti was reaching his fifties, and the wealth accumulated from his boat business was enough to become his sole thought. His disdain for magic in a world bustling with it had resulted in a man bitter and callous, notable in his community for his business but disliked for his character. 

Then there came Ilma Heikkinen, a woman thirty years his junior who he barely knew, having met her in a gathering. No marriage ever entered the picture; it was the result of one night of passion that resulted in Ilma becoming pregnant. Fearful of her parents disowning her, she left her infant at his doorsteps and was never seen again in Saimaa. 

The child she gave Veeti was a boy, and Veeti named him Valttu.

Valttu’s magic was evident almost instantly, leaving Veeti in a rage that he must have slept with a witch who had escaped Saimaa not only from her parents but also in fear of him slandering her, based on the rumors concerning his treatment of Satu. 

But he raised the damn child with as much disdain as the witch-boy deserved. With Valttu’s half-siblings far older and out of the house and Veeti’s attention in his business, Valttu grew up alone, and Veeti hoped this would be enough to stifle the magic from him, like a flicker of a lone flame on a candle extinguished by the wind. 

Yet Valttu could not be kept away from the desire to seek more knowledge about his birthright. Allowed only indoors during the day, he regularly snuck out to watch the other mages training, working together, free to live with their magic—all which he soaked up with envious hunger, his young mind reliving each day with himself among him. 

It was not long before Valttu found his own kin, the Hotakainen family. He grew up watching the twin girls, Laina and Aina, the love they were showered under their mothers, two powerful and well-loved mages. Magic featured in every aspect of their lives, their home bustling with it. But fantasies of the Hotakainen only filled Valttu will misery, never enough to keep him sated. He _must_ be among them. 

“I am Valttu Hotakainen,” he said over dinner one evening, already preparing himself for his father’s reaction. At fifteen, he was well-versed in his father’s eccentricities. 

Veeti’s eyes flashed dangerously. 

“You are not to go near those witches, got that?” he said in a dangerous tone. 

“I’m not a child,” Valttu said. “They are more family to me than you are. We are all mages.” 

The anger and the screaming was expected. The lashing, not so much. 

Later that night, Valttu snuck into his father’s workshop and studied the paddles and oars on the wall before selecting one and promptly breaking it against his knee, testing the sharpness of the tip of the long shaft. 

He father was still up, going through some letters and writing checks when Valttu slipped inside uninvited, and the biting comment died along with his breath as his own oar pierced through his heart. 

Valttu sat on the cushioned seat, in the room his father never allowed him in, and watched the blood dripping down the site of impalement. By morning he would be discovered by one of the maids, and the news will spread that the cold tycoon behind the boating business had died by the same thing that had bought him fortune. 

Reaching over, Valttu dipped two fingers into the pool and tasted his father’s blood. 

Valttu hadn’t bothered using his first magic on his own father. It wouldn’t reap him with any rewards. Veeti Holola had not a drop of magic. 

Out alone in the forests, far from Saimaa, Valttu found mages who would train him, ones who would do so under certain conditions, favors he would only gladly give on his knees or lying flat on his back. Some sessions left him drained, his mentors leaving him with their dark laughter ringing in his ears, before he learned how to drain their souls back, suck out their magic and their entire soul, learn their secrets, until there was nothing left. This, he decided, was how he wished to acquire magic most, to make up for the years spent cooped up in his father’s prison. 

His eyes and his heart held the power to do the most damage, everything from poisoning and drying lakes to drawing up the magic he perceived himself the rightful owner of. But there were other means to take magic from another, brutal means that gave him physical pleasure as an additional bonus: cutting them to feast on their blood, a taste which he was coming to savor, twisting and contorting their bodies to amuse himself with, feasting on their cries of anguish and the agony from their torture, and violating their bodies with his own, smelling the terror mingled with pain and forced pleasure drift around him. He could inflict these pains with merely a thought or gaze, a power that he fast became addicted to. 

He used these methods whenever he could, to enforce to other mage that he, Valttu, was their superior, their master, the usurper and possessor of their magic. 

Other kades even began to fear him, as none had acquired power as great as his. Valttu’s envy, hatred, and greed towards other mages had left behind a trail of blood across Finland, claiming the lives of mage and kade alike, but it was never enough, not even with all the power he had gained. In time, his undying yearning for the Hotakainen twins led him back to Saimaa.

*

Laina and Aina had both grown into beautiful women though they couldn’t be any more different. Laina was loud and expressive, managing to find a means of magicking her hair a light shade of violet; Aina never uttered a word, speaking only with her hands. Laina’s wavy hair grew down past her hips, her figure hour-glass and bodacious; Aina was very thin, and her hair cut down close to her scalp. Laina enjoyed being among the company of others, mage or non-mages alike; Aina at times could scarcely endure being in her own sister’s embrace.

Yet they got along well, and grew up happy under two very caring mothers. And Valttu desired them both, fantasized about each of them pinned underneath his body. The envy burned inside him as he watched Laina flirt openly with another mage in their community, a large boulder of a man named Ontti Mäkelä who married her not long after. Though Valttu tried his charms on her soon after returning to Saimaa before learning of her marriage to Ontti, Laina laughed, clearly enjoying his attention and ready to toy with him. But Aina’s eyes grew wide and sprinted off. 

He decided it was Aina he wanted more. 

Valttu made his presence known to Láilá, sensing the incredible surge of power within her, and she took him in, the first mentor to train him without asking any favors in return. He remained a good student, dutiful and loyal, always smiling, always kind. But never was a marriage to Aina brought up. When Valttu himself came to ask for Aina’s hand, he was gently declined. By virtue of his adopted surname, Ensi Taika and Láilá did not think the cousins should wed. 

Instead, Valttu lay witness to Ensi Taika and Láilá discussing amongst themselves over another, Nartti Korhonen, a handsome and notably strong mage they had been working with. He was present the day Nartti and Aina met, saw how Aina’s eyes lit the moment their gazes met and immediately looked away, smiling shyly and refusing to look Nartti in the eye. Then Nartti bowed, his voice drawing her back to his gaze, and he surprised her with a message in sign language that stole her heart away. 

They were wed within the year. Valttu made certain he was present, to wish Nartti well, his pats on the back carrying a silent curse. Later he watched from afar, the sight of Aina’s naked body quenching Valttu’s thirst as she lay under her husband, open and vulnerable, withering under him, yet no pleasure could fully satisfy Valttu unless he could be in Nartti’s place, be inside Aina. His eyes bore a bullet through the back of Nartti’s head until he felt the presence of another—Láilá—having found his hiding place. Like a snake he moved, slipping away into the dark. 

Nartti developed headaches after, but powerful as he was it did not deter him from his work, laughing off his malady to, “some kade has laid his eyes on me!” 

Valttu hated him more.

Nartti and Aina welcomed their son Lalli not long after, a tiny frail child like Aina herself, and the two couldn’t be happier. Nartti spent every evening after his scouting walking around the house with the infant in his arms and reciting in his talented voice a verse from _The Kalevala_ , with Aina, lovesick puppy she had become, following them closely behind, smiling from ear to ear. It made Valttu sick to his stomach. 

It should have been Aina bare and open under him. It should be the boy he claims as his own. Nartti should never have existed. The thought that she had been just out of reach, now blocked by three—two aging witches and a mage who smiled even as he required time off work from his mounting headaches—only twisted the jealousy further in Valttu’s heart. 

He will rectify everything.

*

Cursing, she spun at her heels, reassessing the area she had just passed. He must have gotten more powerful since the last time they had dueled. The walls which the bastard erected were evading and slowing her down, not submitting to any of her spells. Every moment counted, and each second lost meant greater threat for the boy’s life.

“I’ve found you once before. I can find you again!” she growled under her breath and pushed on, her eyes glowing dangerously in the dark.

*

Lalli slept peacefully in a nest of blankets atop the floor bed Aina shared with her husband. Her mother and Nartti were out, and Aina was busying herself in the kitchen when she turned around and gave a start, having not heard the man enter the house. Valttu, the one who always smiled and laughed with the family, stood now with the coldest smile that instantly sucked the warmth from the glow of the morning sun as he closed the space, his claws upon her throat.

“Aina, dear Aina,” he sighed, a finger tracing up her neck. He inhaled deeply, eyes closed, and when he opened them, a green light flickered past his eyes. “There is so much magic untapped inside you. You will give it to me, love, as you were meant to be mine. You, and your son.” Grinning, he motioned over to the sleeping small child. 

“I will have him as I am about to enjoy you.” 

Eyes wide, Aina made to scream, but the sound died in her throat. Valttu sneered and squeezed his fingers around her. At that moment she felt his other hand grope her, traveling up her thigh, around to fondle her buttocks, tracing around to the front—

“Let go of her.” 

The words came out strong, commanding, and firm, yet calm, and the hands released Aina as if scarred. Hissing, Valttu stepped back and gripped his left hand, watching as a red flame appeared, marking him for evil. 

“Aina, dear, step aside,” Ensi Taika said calmly. Aina bowed her head and obeyed, joining her son who still slept. She did not want to look at what will transpire, but it was brief: Ensi Taika rounded over Valttu, her eyes flashing into a bright glow and spoke in a threatening tone, “I saw where your hands were, fiend. You are not family. Get out.” 

The fast beating of her heart steadied only when her mother embraced her, singing a song to soothe the trauma, and the waking of her son nearby, his little hand reaching out for hers. 

The day had went without another incident. Nartti was soon with her again, his arms so different than Valttu’s, warmer than the claws around her throat earlier. Láilá stopped by, having returned from a visit to Laina and Ontti, before setting for her night shift with her crew. Ensi Taika told them each of the incident despite Aina shaking her head to beg her mother not to, but their reaction did not make her flinch. Nartti embraced her and promised she will be safe. Láilá and Ensi Taika each sang a spell over her. Little Lalli, who did not understand what the grownups were discussing, hugged his mother and said he will save her from the bad witch. 

But though she smiled, in her mind spoke Valttu’s words: _I will have him as I am about to enjoy you._

The following morning Ensi Taika found Láilá’s body among her crew. Each victim bore the same mark—Valttu’s mark. 

Horrified and grief-stricken, Ensi Taika called for Laina and Ontti to take their two children and move into her home. She watched over them all like a hawk ever since.

*

The pain shot through Lalli from every angle, stealing any counter spell before he can begin them. Strangled, it was all he could do to stare over Valttu’s shoulder, his mind shoving the wicked deeds, the horrific violation. He opened his mouth to scream, hoping someone back at the tank could hear him, but something like a thick glob of blood rose up to his mouth, gagging him.

It was difficult to judge which pain was worse: the red-hot blade or _this_. He had handed himself over to Valttu with utter gullibility; he only had himself to blame as blood dribbled out with each cut, each thrust, each cold laugh as the man fiddled around with his body like a deranged child picking apart a toy. The pain seared, the blood dribbled onto the ground, and with it, Lalli’s own magic, seeping out of him and into Valttu. Lalli’s mind continued to scream even as he pulled himself out of it, focusing on a star, any star, denying what was happening, denying everything happening to him. Denying his looming death. 

“Better than your mother,” Valttu grunted, pushing Lalli deeper against the ground, each cold laugh knives coring out Lalli’s life-force and magic. 

Lalli hiccuped back the tears, willing every inch of him to fight back, think of a counter spell, trying to ignore the glistening words carved on his skin and the excruciating pain deeper within, but each wave of magic that flowed through him drained out and into Valttu instead. 

A mad frantic scream rattled in his mind. _Help me!_

*

Reynir glanced up and gasped. Out of seemingly no where the lynx appeared, limbing between the thicket of trees. He knew it was Lalli’s Luonto, having asked Tuuri about it just a few days ago.

Blood blotted the lynx’s coat, one eye bruised and one ear torn and bleeding. Blood dribbled down the back of its hind legs. Weakly it raised its head, meeting Reynir’s eyes with a pleading look, and Reynir leaned forward. 

“Lalli?” Reynir called out softly, afraid to scare off the lynx. It remained rooted to the spot, holding Reynir’s gaze with that same sad, defeated, begging look. Getting to his feet, Reynir crossed the dream-water, the sheepdog giving one bark after him, and crouched before the spirit. This up close he could clearly see the lynx’s eyes were the same as Lalli’s own: the same shape, light grey, the same stare. But there also was the pain and the blood. 

“Lalli, did you get injured out there?” Reynir asked, reaching out for the lynx’s paw. Giving a tiny gruff growl, the lynx extended out a blood-soaked paw into his hand. Fear froze his heart, as each passing moment led to another cut, another line of blood running down the injured lynx. 

“Lalli, what’s happening?”

*

“Horrors.” Ensi Taika shook her head in disbelief. There was nothing much more she could do. None of them could. The other mages bowed their heads in respect. Salma began her prayer instantly. “You cannot tell which one of them is Nartti. You cannot tell any of them apart.”

She stepped back, uncertain if her aging heart could endure the sight before her. In utter mockery of their _kallohonka_ tradition, Valttu had stripped, skinned, deboned, and completely picked apart each of the mages who Ensi Taika had sent after him the night he had been spotted back in Saimaa, including Nartti himself. The skulls removed and picked clean, they were displayed on the pine trees overlooking Ensi Taika while the rest of their remains lay on the ground. 

“Look at this one!” someone said a little far off. “The body wasn’t skinned or—gods, he used it to—”

Retching followed. Ensi Taika couldn’t stare for long, guessing what other ills he had violated on the poor souls. 

“I am so sorry, Aina,” she muttered, preparing herself for the prayers to help the souls to the afterlife lest a new wave of the rash disease strike their community. It was bad enough the kade had dried up every lake and shriveled every tree he passed. She thought of her wife, among the first casualties in Saimaa by hands of Valttu the kade, and her heart grieved. “I am so sorry, Nartti. I am so, so sorry, Láilá…”

*

The house grew still and silent since her husband’s murder. Aina watched her little son curled on a corner of their floor-bed, playing idly with a doll she and Nartti had sewn for Lalli. She knew he was keeping one ear out for his father to appear, not understanding the concept of death. Aina had not dared Ensi Taika take him to the scene. It was enough she had to live with it.

She spotted her mother’s rifle mounted on the wall and took it down. Having watched Ensi Taika fire it several times, she understood enough of the mechanics to point the gun at the back of little Lalli’s head, her hands shaking. It would devastate her, but it would be the right thing to do. 

“Aina, dear, put that down.” 

The hand that covered hers was firm but warm. The rifle lowered, taken back by its original owner. Ensi Taika studied her daughter. Fighting back her tears, Aina signed, her hands going too fast to convey all the thoughts burning through her mind. She was certain Ensi Taika was going to slap her for her ridiculousness, but she simply read her signs calmly. 

“Do not lose hope, child,” she said at last. “Lalli is the product of the love between Nartti and yourself. Shooting him will only make Valttu win.” 

_What if he does to Lalli what he almost did to me or what he has done to Nartti?_ Aina signed. 

“He will not, and I will make sure of it,” Ensi Taika promised. “Do not lose your hope, dear. Your child is still very much loved, and it would break Nartti’s heart to know you took both of your son’s life. The child has a right to a life, and we must ensure it is good; it is the promise every parent makes to their young.

“Hush, now. Let us play and sing Láilá’s song and fill your heart with hope.” 

Wiping away her tears, Aina nodded, burying her face in Ensi Taika’s arms. Across their small apartment, an eleven year-old boy perched on the bed opposite his younger sister, who cuddled into her plush weasel, close to falling asleep, but otherwise safe in her bed. His eyes darted around for any sign of the tall looming shadow of the terrible kade his parents and grandmother were locked in a war with. His father Ontti had taught him just enough magic, and getting to his feet, Onni paced around his sister, keeping vigilant, completely unaware that he had almost lost his cousin.

*

It was called the Harmony of Hope. Láilá composed the words long ago when she and Ensi Taika were children mages running around in Saimaa among the surviving communities. Now the family sat around in the kitchen, and Aina played her kantele and the others sang. In Láilá’s voice was vitality, Ensi Taika’s voice compassion, Nartti’s voice joy, and in Aina’s playing hope.

The words and music filled little Lalli’s head and his heart, and he leaned into his father’s arms and lulled to sleep, safe and protected among his family.

The same song, long since having become a ghost in his memories, which Valttu had used to lure Lalli to him. That which brought him hope and peace now left him utterly broken on a cold ground, so far from home and from his nearest allies. The same song which Valttu still sang, his voice horribly fair, pausing occasionally to reveal to Lalli the true fates of his father, his mother, Grandma Láilá and Grandma Ensi Taika, and his involvement in each of their demise… 

Tears blurred Lalli’s vision. One by one the stars above went out. 

_Help me._

*

“How did this happen?” Reynir asked the lynx. “Are you Lalli or part of him? What has happened to him? Can you tell me?”

The lynx struggled raising its head, regarding Reynir with watery eyes. Its head bobbed and sniffed at Reynir’s hand, and Reynir raised his hand slowly, allowing it to lick or rub against his palm. Instead, the lynx slipped right under his palm, covering its eyes, but in that instant vivid images assaulted Reynir’s mind. 

He saw it all: the addled-mind Lalli accepting the kiss, the moment of clarity and the moment of attack, the battle of magic and the loss, the red-hot blade piercing skin, the mad laughter—the thick, sickening, horrific feeling that seeped through Reynir’s veins, knowing he was the object of pure relentless jealousy as the envious eyes bore ill upon him, upon Lalli, twisting his insides even as Lalli fought with all his strength—Lalli, his clothes torn, his body badly bruised and ripped, pinned to the ground—Reynir’s breaths came in sharp heaves, feeling Lalli’s pain as his own. 

And the blood—so much of it, pooling under Lalli, choking in unshed tears

He pulled his hand away. Reynir’s jaws dropped, too stunned to believe it. His heart hammered against his chest, he couldn’t stop the tears as his body shook, still disbelieving what he had seen. 

“How, oh gods—where is he?” he asked the lynx. 

Again the lynx found his palm, and the vision came. The lynx took him through Lalli’s journey from the tank through the forest, to a glade just wide enough for the wicked mage to claim his victim. 

With a sharp gasp, Reynir sat upright, fully awake and alert in the tank. Around him slept peacefully the other crew members, unaware of the horrors Lalli was just barely enduring. Reynir considered waking Sigrun, knowing he needed a strong fighter on his side, but they did not share a language. He could speak with Mikkel, but Mikkel might not consider his dream anything more than a nightmare. The other person who he could speak with was Tuuri, and he would not dare have her see this. 

He threw on his coat and slipped out as quickly and quietly as he could. Retracing the steps at night was tough, as Lalli had left while there was still some light reflected in the night sky, but Reynir ran in pitch darkness, navigating on pure memory and adrenaline. 

As Lalli before, he ran past the mage without noticing her, but she paused when she saw him pass.

*

Fear began to grip her. There was just no denying it: Valttu had blockaded his prison so that no one else may pierce through it. He must had anticipated her sniffing him out and set up these walls. It seems for an eternity she has been walking in circles, driving herself mad. By now the poor Hotakainen must be dead.

Just then a young man ran past her, and to her shock, he pierced through the wall as if it was nothing. 

“What mage are you?” she said under her breath. “Or are you one of his lackeys?” 

But there was no time to lose. Finding a straight path, she chased after him, keeping the tails of his coat in her vision.

*

Every inch of him seared with pain. Vaguely his mind registered the odd angle Valttu had magicked his body: standing up with his spine thrown backwards, completely exposed and vulnerable as ever. The cold fingers continued to dig through, though Valttu himself did not touch him, his gaze alone stringing damage. A nauseating sensation settled deep in his core, the threat just below the surface, but any struggle against the binds met against magic as powerful as steel walls.

The will to keep fighting was slipping. There was not one means left that Valttu had not used in degrading, humiliating, and violating Lalli, each moment displaying to Lalli the profound hate and jealousy the kade had for his family and for Lalli himself. 

His own magic had become nearly depleted, but still Valttu wasn’t done with him. Cold fingers twisted and turned inside his core, making their way up to his throat then back down. Then Valttu gave the command and Lalli felt the scream tear out his very soul. As though an invisible thread had been pulled, Valttu unraveled him from the front, his torso tearing along some sort of invisible perforated line. Blood pooled and gushed out, from his stomach, chest, throat…

Lalli collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut off. But still Valttu grinned, still intent on using him. Did he plan on making Lalli a ghost of some sort that he could command? Or—and Lalli’s heart clenched with the thought—he planned to display him to the rest of the crew just as he had displayed his father’s remains to his family years ago. He would share both Aina and Nartti Hotakainen’s fates.

 _You did this to me_ , Lalli thought bitterly, imagining their horrified looks when they would see his remains, reduced down into being treated like a beast’s corpse. 

Lalli’s head fell back. Blood covered his entire form, dribbled down his injured arms and legs, life fast slipping out of him, yet the kade’s terrible laughter still rang in his ears. Through hazy vision he watched as Valttu raised his arms for the final blow, and just as Lalli’s heart gave one final plea to his gods for deliverance, a voice rang out. 

Light burst around him, and in the distance a dog’s bark echoed in the forest.

*

“Stop it! Stop it _now_!”

Seeing Lalli torn and bleeding sprung him into action. Reynir’s protective spell poured out of him instinctively, appearing below Lalli and himself as if effortlessly, blocking the wicked mage completely. His fylgja ran around the circle, barking at their enemy. 

“No, please!” Reynir stood between the mage and Lalli with his arms held out. His heart pounded from the exertion of the run and the boiling anger, meeting the eyes of the other man. _There’s no soul inside you_ , he thought with stunned disgust. “Please stop. You’ve hurt him too much. I saw what you did to him. Everything. Touch him again and I will break both of your arms.” 

He might not have understood Reynir; from his clothes he was clearly a Finn like Lalli, but Reynir didn’t care. The man—so much older than them that Reynir felt sick thinking that he preyed on younger individuals roaming alone in the wilderness—regarded Reynir for a moment in silence. 

“Are you a friend of his?” he asked in Icelandic, taking Reynir by surprise. 

“Friend?” He didn’t look back at Lalli. “Of course! I am a good friend of his! A very good friend and I care for him! I will not have anyone hurt him!” 

A green light flashed across the mage’s eyes, his gaze ugly and dark, scrutinizing Reynir from the tips of his hair down to his toes. A second later, Reynir recognized the look. It was the same glare one of the village girls gave his former girlfriend, Eskja, back at home when they began dating: jealousy, hatred, misery. 

Reynir took a step back. 

“You have so much power, far more than the other,” the mage said in an odd voice, the words drawled as he continued to size up Reynir. A shadow grew behind him, and a moment later Reynir realized it was the mage’s Luonto: a hideous beast, a gigantic snake, but with the tip of its tail like that of a scorpion’s, the curved edge sharp, threatening, and pointing right at him. “So much untapped power…” 

Watching the mage’s eyes glow with greed and lust, Reynir’s revulsion and rage teemed until it completely spilled over; he gave it to the mage, his rising voice filling the forest as the protection rune around them glowed, unwavering. He knew he was only pissing the mage off further, edging him to motion, but he was ready to fight, protect Lalli. 

He was not expecting the blow to come from a distance. Mid-sentence he stopped, gasping, then shrieked as his heart squeezed and blood spluttered up to his lips. The same assault spread throughout his internal organs, knocking him onto his knees. In that moment, the mage broke through the shield of his rune, his grin terrible. 

Fearing the mage was trying to get to Lalli, Reynir threw his body over him, but the mage grabbed him by the roots of his hair. He wrestled with him until Reynir’s head was pinned down to the ground and his hips raised up, but even with the threat of the mage right against him and his arms magically bound over his back, even with the pain throbbing throughout his body and the blood dribbling down his chin, Reynir fought back, breaking each curse the mage threw at him. 

“I will have you!” the mage grunted behind him, seizing Reynir around by his neck, his sharp nails digging into the flesh. 

“ _YOU WILL NOT!_ ” 

The beam of light threw the mage off Reynir, and Reynir fell forward. Scrambling onto his knees, he looked about, noticing the protection rune had changed. The color of the light different, the strength of the magic, he could feel, stronger, more consistent. Instead of his sheepdog a wild boar grunted and stood nearby, its beady but sharp eyes guarding them. 

Standing before them was an elderly mage, going by the grey among the red in her frizzy hair. She had her back turned towards them, focusing all her magic on binding the other mage to the spot. Noting her rune making tool belt in wonder, he shook his head—an Icelandic mage, _here_? 

“Who are you?” Reynir found himself asking, dazed. 

She glanced over her shoulder. 

“You call that magic, boy?” she cried out. “What were you doing in magic school all this time, frolicking with sheep in the meadows? That was the most pitiful attempt I had ever witnessed!” 

“I’ve only been a mage for a couple days!” Reynir sputtered, eyes wide. 

“Frejya give me patience! I was about to put the life of this Finn in your hands!” 

“Hey! I never even remembered my dreams until I began doing magic! I just started!” 

An understanding shone in her eyes, and quickly she tightened the bond against the mage. “Oh…you know this man?” 

“No, but I know _him_. I’m his…friend,” Reynir said. “Colleague. Our camp is not too far off.” 

“You know the Hotakainen kid?” 

Reynir’s mouth fell open, but now wasn’t the time to ask questions. “Yeah. I’m Reynir Árnason.” 

“Katla Galdursdóttir. I’ve been hunting down Valttu the kade’s trail for years. He’s obsessed with the Hotakainen family. Calls himself Valttu Hotakainen.”

Reynir blanched, recalling what he had seen in the lynx-vision. 

“Though he is family, he is not of the direct line.” 

“I am Valttu Hotakainen!” Valttu hissed. 

“You are not, Valttu Hollolooloodoodle!” Katla spat back. “You are but a filthy kade who has terrorized your distant cousins!” 

“Kade,” Reynir repeated, slightly confused. He would have to ask Tuuri or Onni later. “He’s been stalking them?” 

“He is mine,” Valttu’s words shook the ground. “Just give me the boy. I loved his mother. The boy is my own. It is all I ask. Just one more.” 

“That is what you said when you took away Láilá’s life, and Nartti’s, and then the others,” Katla said. “It will never stop. Jealousy becomes an addiction, Valttu. You become a miserable loser, obsessed with what you do not have and what others possess which you lack. Nothing will ever fulfill you. Should the entire world becomes yours, you will only then look to the gods with envy, if you haven't already. Jealousy chews your soul as you despise one till you destroy them, and then those hate-filled eyes turn towards the next victim, the next obsession. It becomes a cycle, because you’ll never get that satisfaction—you can never transfer another’s happiness into your life! You’ve lost already, Valttu. Just look here! Speaking of only needing the Hotakainen boy, but already your eyes turn towards this Icelandic idiot of a mage—goodness boy, get out of here!” 

The wild boar gruntled and shook its head towards Valttu threateningly. Flinching, Reynir crouched down and picked up Lalli. It was the first good look he had of him, and struck by the reality of his injuries, he could have kicked himself for having wasted so much time yelling at Valttu. 

Lalli lay cold and grey in his arms, lips blue, his eyes closed shut. Valttu’s words carved curses throughout his body, some words still bright red and shallow, others deep, the blood dark, an organ exposed. 

“Lalli, can you hear me?” Reynir asked, touching his cheek, his forehead, checking for a pulse on his neck. Every inch of him either bruised or bleeding, the result of a man so possessed and empowered by jealousy that every step had left behind pain and sorrow. 

_Why?_ his mind kept asking, thinking back to the little Tuuri had told him of Lalli’s past. _You’ve taken everything from him. What’s left to envy?_

“Lalli, please don’t go…” 

“Boy, what are you doing?!” 

Reynir’s head snapped up. He hadn’t seen the moment Valttu broke out of his binds. Enraged he threw curses at Katla, which she deflated with quickly motions of her hand, drawing runes in mid-air with a rune-tool that materialized into entities of pure light and sound, deflecting each of the kade’s runo. If he wasn’t horribly worried over Lalli, Reynir would have been enchanted by her way of performing magic. 

“Lalli’s dead!” 

“He is still alive, idiot! But he will be if you do not get out of here now! Please tell me there are proper medical supplies back in your camp!” 

“Er—”

Screaming, she sent another binding rune around Valttu, then drew a rune high over Lalli’s body. 

“Look at it!” she shrieked, her voice shaking him to his feet. “Let that rune burn into your thick skull! Cast it as many times as you can all over his body and it will heal as many injuries and ills it finds.” 

“But I can’t cast spells at will!” Reynir said. 

“Oh for the love of—intention and desire! You haven’t been able to cast it probably because you’re trying to force it too hard! Think of your intention—a singular intention! Think of your desire, and let that emotion cast the spell for you! Now get out of here or I’m roasting your ass next, imp!” 

The rune fell over Lalli, and his body quivered in Reynir’s arms, a quick gasp for air, before stilling again. Gripping him closer to his chest, Reynir ran off, but not before looking back as Katla, who was laughing wildly, regarding a Valttu who had just gotten back to his feet. 

“Just us two crones now!” her mad laughter roared. The last thing Reynir saw were the silhouettes of the serpent and the wild boar. Then light engulfed the entire forest, and screaming, gripping Lalli tighter against himself, Reynir bolted back to the tank, praying he was not too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: There’s gonna be a mage fight! :D 
> 
> Although this fic touches on the backstory of my Hotakainen family, this isn’t about the It that the comics have alluded to. I’m curious to see what it is first, and then I’ll find some way to weave and blame Valttu for it. :) So this may be the extent of it for now. 
> 
> Now to cheer on Reynir as he rushes back to the tank, and cheer on Katla as she takes on the most powerful kade who ever lived.
> 
> Oh, and I hope no one's upset with what I did with Veeti? I actually do feel bad for him, being a kid who must have thought being a mage would be so cool but alas, he didn't become one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the family tree and names by Minna were posted since the first part, I will mention this here (although there will also be a note on my main ‘verse Dreamwidth page when I get it all ready): I intend to make Mageverse accept Chapters 1 and 10 as canon and then only snippets of everything after that. So you will see some things that align and some things that won’t. This is because I was creating this ‘verse while reading Chapter 10 and decided, to save my own sanity and not have to keep constantly changing things, it will follow up to that chapter and I will not be adapting all new canon tidbits. :) So I guess this is an AU of sorts, although it will reference the comics several times as well, such as my end-of-story note here. :) (This story does align somewhat to Chapter 11, as well the story that comes after this.)
> 
> I have gone back to the first part and adjusted Taika's name to her new name (which is now Ensi Taika. I merged them because I love the meaning!) 
> 
> Many thanks to IdleLeaves for beta-reading this!

She inflamed him in every possible way: his mind, his desire, his anger and fear, all with one gaze. From across the forest of Norway he had noticed her, for she stole his attention with beauty as fearsome and feral as her fylgja. 

He sought to woo her as he had previously done all his victims, but the woman, though she let him kiss her, caress her, was like a stone wall. Try as he may he simply could not proceed further, prevented by a smile that infuriated him enough to lust after her more. In all his years he was never given a greater mystery to crack. 

The thought of succeeding exhilarated him. Her name, Katla Galdursdóttir, a mage of half Icelandic and half Norwegian blood, filled his every waking thought with lust.

When she refused him for the third time, he swore it would be the final time. 

He snuck into her camp later that night, heart pounding with the thought of his prize. Katla slept soundly, long red hair a pool around her head. Gingerly he inched closer, the beginning of the curse resting right at the tip of his tongue when the lady mage’s eyes drew open just as a flash of light blasted him off his feet. 

He collided with the wall opposite and slid down. His back seared with pain long after impact. Grunting, Valttu quickly recovered his footing in time to see Katla sitting upright in her bed. She wore a simple nightgown, utterly defenseless, yet somehow she still managed to appear as menacing as ever. Her fierce eyes burned bright in the dark as they steadily bore into his. 

“Valttu Hotakainen,” she said. “Finland. Reports of numerous deaths of mages, including of an innocent family—rumor is they have died at the hands of a kade. Here we have a lone Finnish mage who invites himself into my tent after I have made it clear I desire no intercourse with him. A mage fevered with love or a kade who cannot take no for an answer? The latter is sounding more and more likely!”

The rage flamed in his eyes but Valttu immediately pushed them back.

“You may be mistaking me for another criminal,” he said calmly. “I am related to the poor Hotakainens, and was very much disheartened by the news. But I would do no such thing. I’m afraid no one can find nor prove the culprit.” 

“Oh I think you have laid out the clues nicely yourself!” Katla said, smirking in a way that dropped the facade Valttu had been wearing. “I sniff out scoundrels like you for a living! News have said that the culprit clung to the family like a curtain for years, disguised his surname simply out of obsession for the family. He sought to woo one of the daughters, but when he was rejected on grounds of marrying a relation and when the woman married another, he turned his wrath against the entire family! Sounds rather familiar, doesn’t it? As I said: cannot take no for an answer…”

Nostrils flared, Valttu regarded her coldly. 

“No, Valttu _Hollola_ , I say you’ve led a trail to your arrest as clear as a fire-lit river. Even the most clueless authority will be after you.” 

“If they can survive me.” 

“Ha—such vanity! I’d like to pop that inflated head of yours and show you just how hollow and air-filled it really is!” 

It didn’t take much to enrage him; the witch must have known that. The rage swept through him like a forest fire, the curse coursing through to his fingertips, aiming right for her heart, but Katla cast her first rune quicker, binding him to the spot. 

“There will not be any more victims,” she hissed. “I swore it when I learned the news! Pathetic scum such as you should have the magic ripped out of you by the very gods who mistakenly bestowed it upon you!”

Laughing, he threw off her spell easily. “If the gods will take this from me, then I will become greater than the gods!”

Light flashed through her grey eyes, either from hearing him so verbally decry the gods or from him throwing off her spell. She threw herself out of bed, the mad glint spreading throughout her body. The battle raged on, runo against rune, light and spells rippling madly throughout the room. 

As the rage built in having been rejected and discovered, Valttu’s mind focused on how to disfigure the witch permanently. Dodging a rune-cast spell that just missed his ear by an inch, setting him off again, his next chant came out like thunder. 

Valttu hurled the curse, laughing madly when he heard the impact. He dodged the counter-spell but heard Katla scream nonetheless. When he looked up, he saw that his curse had sliced across Katla’s chest. 

She stood still, shoulders straight, face showing none of the pain as blood seeped from a gash in her breast, standing proud even as Valttu leered at the sight of it, drinking in the lustful image.

“You are beautiful,” he said hoarsely. 

Katla’s face was impassive. Then, bringing her hands above her head, she drew a sign. He heard a faint but brief laugh. 

For weeks after that moment, fire burned in Valttu’s crotch.

*

Katla watched Reynir run off with the dying Hotakainen boy before turning back to Valttu. Age did little to haggard the man, making him able to use his handsomeness to tinker with any victim. She had placed a curse on him once before, many years back, that ensured he would not touch another for weeks, months, possibly even years—but if she had to guess, he must have healed completely to return to his predatory acts.

She released the binds, keeping her eyes on him. 

“Do not bother chasing after the boys,” she said. “I’ve sealed this glade so we’re locked inside it.” 

Valttu’s eyes scanned the vicinity, spotting her magic’s shield over it before glaring at her. She grinned and stepped forward. 

“Just like old times, eh there, pal?” she said, cackling madly as she rose her hands above her head. 

Valttu wasted no time: the first verses of his runo already poured out of his lips. 

Runo and Rune clashed. 

The battle began.

*

The bang of the door thrown open in the tank sounded like cannon fire, awakening everyone at the same moment. Startled, every member of the crew peered out from their bunks to see Reynir standing just beyond the doorway, in his bedclothes with his coat thrown on, smeared in blood, his face bruised, and carried in his arms was—

Tuuri’s shriek brought everyone’s hair on end; it was a scream Reynir would never forget. In a flash, Sigrun was on her feet, snatching the mask from the wall and strapping it around Tuuri’s face. She said something Reynir couldn’t understand as she hoisted Tuuri to her feet with one arm. They made their way around Reynir and with her other, injured, arm Sigrun forced Tuuri to look away, but Tuuri screamed and resisted against her hold. 

“ _No!_ Let me _go!_ I have to see him— _LALLI!_ ” 

“Reynir, what happened?” Mikkel asked. Both he and Emil stood side by side, equally pale. Emil’s breathing came out shuddering and cold, his eyes fixated on the unmoving bundle in Reynir's arms. 

“Please help him!” Reynir begged, unable to keep his voice less shrill than Tuuri’s. His lungs screamed with pain from how fast he had been running. Tuuri’s screams were turning his legs into jelly and he nearly fainted from the sudden impact of reality— _this is really happening_. “Lalli was attacked—I saw it all in my dream—he’ll die if we don’t do something right now!” 

Emil stared, too stunned and horrified to move, disbelief in his eyes. He didn’t understand a word he had said, Reynir realized, but Mikkel’s eyes were solemn. 

“There’s someone else out there?” 

There was the metal bang of the radio room's door slamming shut, and Tuuri pounding against the window, craning her head to see more of her cousin. She had already pried her mask off, not needing it in that room away from them. Sigrun rounded on Reynir, yelling out orders to Mikkel, perhaps to ask for a translation. 

_We’re taking too long!_ Reynir thought frustratedly and ran towards the wall. He shifted Lalli’s weight to one arm and used his free hand to grab the handle that released the fold-down table. Carefully he lay Lalli on top of it, then turned towards the cabinets where they kept the medical supplies. 

“Mikkel—please!” 

Mikkel approached, leaned over his patient, and stilled. Any hope Reynir had wavered with the somber look in Mikkel’s eyes, examining the extent of Lalli’s injuries. Any of Mikkel’s tendency for making sarcastic comments died in his throat. Lalli had been gashed open down his middle and up to his throat, gutted like a fish; his legs and arms were carved and bleeding, bruises mangled his pale body, and—when Mikkel’s eyes noticed the other injuries, the ghost of some unknown past horror shone in his eyes. 

He shook his head with pity. “He’s gone, Reynir. I’m sorry.” 

“You can’t give up on him! He’s still hanging in there, I know it!” 

“There’s nothing I can do; he’s too far gone, Reynir. There is extensive internal organ damage on top of everything else you see here. You said you saw this happen in your dream? You’ve seen the attacker—Where did those bruises come from? Goodness, did you fight with him?” Reynir nodded. Mikkel closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “We will need a report on the attacker so this doesn’t happen again, and then I’ll need to make sure you’re not at risk for infection or injuries yourself. That is all we can do. I’m sorry.” 

Mikkel blurred in Reynir’s vision through the tears. “But his heart is still beating!” 

“He is not _breathing._ I’m sorry. The heart will stop in a few moments.” Bowing his head, Mikkel made his way back towards Sigrun by the beds, who stood with her arms folded. It was impossible to tell which of the many emotions she was keeping bottled up was fighting to the surface. Mikkel whispered a translated version into her ears, and her eyes widened. 

Reynir didn’t need to know Norwegian to understand her screaming, _“Can’t you do anything?”_ over and over until Mikkel explained himself fully, repeatedly, in that deadpan voice until she finally gave up. Her eyes filled with mixed sympathy and horror—and shame in herself, Reynir realized, in having lost a crew member under her watch. 

Her head bowed in prayer.

Emil, despite not having understood a single word in Reynir and Mikkel’s exchange, understood enough from the way Reynir and Tuuri wept.

“Help! Please!” Reynir now begged Emil, when it seemed Sigrun had resigned to leave Lalli to his fate after hearing Mikkel’s report. Reynir knew the two friends had been at odds, but Reynir hoped their friendship was above _this_. He tried desperately to gain an ally in this. 

“Please, help me— _Hjálpa_!” 

“ _Hjälp?_ ” Emil responded, and his arms flailed wildly about him as he prattled on quickly, as much a nervous wreck as Reynir and Tuuri, in Swedish. Reynir stood, his head spinning, unsure of what to say, barely able to catch up to Emil’s words. 

“Reynir!” Tuuri gasped out, sniffling back her sobs. “Emil wants to help you, but he’s frustrated that he can’t understand you! I can help you both! Please, Reynir: What do you need Emil to do?”

Her words lifted hope inside Reynir’s heart. Yes. Two allies. Suddenly the barrier from not being able to talk to Emil broke away. Reynir grinned despite the situation. 

“Right!” Reynir made for one of the cabinets, rummaging through—it would be insane if the item he sought was not in their medical supplies—and his heart leapt again when his hand produced a bag valve mask. He had seen his father use it before on one of the sheep that had fallen ill back on the farm. His father, bless him, was the sort who would never lose a single sheep; and Reynir stood witness to a number of times when his father played medical hero. Reynir figured now was the time to recall as much of those emergency practices as he could. 

“Place this over his nose and mouth and squeeze the bag repeatedly. Don’t stop until he can breathe on his own.” 

Tuuri repeated the instructions as Emil approached the table. 

“Right, got it!” Emil said, nodding his head shakily. But he froze once he got a good look at Lalli and almost stepped back, the wind knocked out him. Cursing slightly, Reynir ran up to him and grabbed Emil’s shoulders, pushing him back. He helped Emil get into position, instructed him, with Tuuri’s help, on how to hold Lalli’s head in the right position, and get him pumping the bag with the right tempo. Reynir didn’t think he could properly breathe until he saw that Lalli was finally being ventilated. 

One part was done. 

“It won’t be enough,” Mikkel said. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and we just can’t do anything for those injuries, especially not the internal organs.” 

“I might be able to help,” Reynir said, positioning himself beside Lalli’s middle. He recalled the rune Katla showed him. Didn’t Icelandic mages carve or draw these on surfaces? Or perhaps powerful ones could just draw them in midair. He didn’t have time to mull on the subject.

Extending out his hand, he drew the rune in midair about a foot above Lalli’s largest wound. 

Nothing. 

Emil quirked one eyebrow in confusion. Trying not to panic, Reynir repeated, but again with no luck. Hands shaking over Lalli’s still form, he tried not to think of himself failing this. 

Magic is intention and desire. Katla told him this. He repeated that in his head, over and over. A singular intention—heal Lalli. Desire— _I must heal Lalli, I cannot see him go, but if I fail—_

_Don’t even think about failing right now—oh, Lalli!—I got you out of there, you’re receiving treatment—we can’t lose you!_ Reynir thought, his heart breaking as he peered at Lalli’s face, half obscured from the mask and looking so deathly white, so fragile. _I would have really liked to know you better, and if you still don’t like me, then at least I want you to live a happy life after this—you shouldn’t have to go like this! It wouldn’t be fair—I don’t want Valttu to win—Gods, he makes me so angry!—I want you to live! I want you to live!_

The runes burst from his palm, hundreds of tiny healing runes in soft blue light, illuminating the dark tank. Emil gasped, eyes wide, but quickly recovered from his moment of distraction to keep pumping the bag. Sigrun’s head rose, her eyes shone with the faintest flicker of hope. Mikkel stared silently. Tuuri wept and cheered Reynir on. 

And Lalli watched Reynir from the other side of the table.

*

Reynir.

It was Reynir who came to his aid. Stupid Reynir with his stupid braid. 

But he had come to his aid. And Lalli had seen him fight Valttu, with whatever magic he could use, and nearly getting himself destroyed in the process. From this angle Lalli could see Reynir’s injuries, as well as the internal damages Valttu inflected, and how Reynir was ignoring them for Lalli’s sake. 

_Reynir._

And Lalli could understand every one of the words he spoke and the thoughts in his head. He could understand them all, as though the gods pitied Lalli’s inability to communicate and just once gave him that chance to hear them. Reynir’s worry over him dizzied him. Emil, who he was certain hated him for the incident in the forest, was crying and softly begging him to come back. Tuuri worked as translator between the two boys despite trembling with her own grief.

Lalli turned towards Mikkel and Sigrun. They stood watching and he would have passed them off as not caring for him until he peered into their thoughts. Sigrun was watching Reynir with pride; she had not stepped in just yet, but it had nothing to do with Lalli. She wanted Reynir to do his magic, she was holding back because she trusted Reynir to be able to heal him. Mikkel was more skeptical, but his eyes hid all of the pain as an old horror from his past resurfaced at the sight of Lalli’s injuries; Lalli did not wish to see more of it. 

“Please come back,” Reynir’s voice drew him back to the other mage. He watched as the stream of healing runes rained down on his form, stitching him back together slowly, far too slowly. 

“Please come back, Lalli,” Reynir begged softly. “I really would have liked to get to know you.” 

The words stung. 

_What could have been…_

The thought of the dream, the water, seeing him for the first time running atop, and Lalli shook his head. He took a few paces, his face inches from Reynir’s. 

“I cannot go back in there,” Lalli said. “My body is severely damaged; no one can save me. Valttu did too much to me. Let me go.” He leaned back, glaring at Reynir’s tears before his face softened and drew back in. “I’m sorry things were not more peaceful between us; my hatred for you was entirely my own stupidity and my own issues. It was never anything about you.” 

Lalli bowed his head, then looked over his shoulder to the point beyond the open door of the tank. A long pathway stood before him, leading not back into the forest, but another place. His final resting place: Tuonela. He perched on the edge of the tank, pondering, taking the steadying breaths before he would let go of life. He _should_ go, but Reynir was too much in his head, and he kept looking back. 

_Damn it, Reynir, let me die in peace!_ Despite himself, Lalli got to his feet again and turned back around, half-glaring, half-torn. As he lay being cut up under the kade, he thought he would die and be forgotten by everyone. He supposed at least Reynir was letting him see that they cared. He could take that with him to his afterlife. 

But there was something else…

His heart pounded from grief of an emotion he didn’t wish to address, not with the truth before him, a truth he was too blind to see—which had landed him in this mess. 

_Let me go, Reynir!_ he wanted to yell, to somehow sabotage Reynir and Emil’s attempts, somehow shut up his cousin so she wouldn’t translate for them, but he could scarcely move. Each success brought him a step closer back, the feeling like dragging him through the mud, back towards a world of pain with them.

“Please, just let it go already!” 

“My, you have such lovely and caring friends here, my little ungrateful one.” 

Lalli didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. Though it had been many years, he instantly recognized the voice. It brought a calm over him, slumping his shoulders and draining away the anger at Reynir. 

Lalli sighed. “You think so, Grandma?”

Soon the space beside him was taken up by another presence, one as small as himself. He smiled before turning towards her. His grandmother regarded him with a rare smile. She seldom did, the old grump (they were quite similar in many ways, Lalli realized amusedly), but to Lalli she always offered something to lift his spirits. 

“What is my name, brat? My full name, Lalli Saku Hotakainen?” she said. Each word was spoken with utmost affection, as affectionate as she could be. 

Lalli nodded. “Ensi Taika Hotakainen.” 

Ensi Taika smiled and nodded her head. “You remember. And yes, I know good friends when I see them.” 

Lalli lowered his gaze, thinking of the man who had left his body in shambles. Slowly he turned around, meeting her gaze and feeling his heart nearly about to burst at seeing her. 

“It is so nice to see you, Lalli, but you are so young! You’re joining me too early!” 

There was no sense of reprimand in her tone, but shame burned inside Lalli all the same. 

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he said. “I befriended the wrong sort. I wish you were there to warn me about… bad friends.” Swallowing thickly, he added, “Are the others here?” 

Ensi Taika nodded. “They’re coming to see you as we speak.” 

Lalli kept his face impassive to hide his guilt. The one who hurt them all had taken his own life. “I’m sorry, Grandma. I did not know who my true friends were.” 

“We all make that mistake,” she said, bowing her head. “Don’t beat yourself over it.” 

Lalli took a step closer towards her. In moments he wouldn’t be alone any longer. “But your mistakes haven’t led to your—I mean, the one I thought I could trust—”

“Lalli, please don’t go—”

Lalli shot a look over his shoulder. “Damn it, Reynir! Let me die!” 

Ensi Taika’s laughter was accompanied by another, one he just vaguely recalled, but it drew on his heart as powerfully as the song of his past. 

“Sorry, he just really makes me angry,” Lalli said, turning back around to face Ensi Taika and Láilá Dunfjeld. 

“Does he, now?” Láilá teased. Her smile was as devilishly mischievous as Ensi Taika always fondly recalled it. “It was the same with Taika and I.” 

Lalli met her eyes and quickly glanced away. 

“He is a handsome mage, and I do not usually notice the men,” Láilá said proudly. “He is a good man.” 

“He is too late,” Lalli said. “He knows nothing of magic, and the man who hurt me—”

“Valttu,” Láilá corrected firmly. “Do not fear saying his name. We know who did this.”

Lalli nodded obediently. “Yes, Grandma Láilá… Valttu is too powerful, and Reynir barely knows anything. My body’s too broken.” 

Láilá smiled. “Can’t be that broken. I see a long future ahead for you, and him.” Something in her eye glinted, a hint that was meant to tease Lalli again. 

“But how?” Lalli said. “I cannot go back! My body! It’s burning! My body’s in so much pain! It hurts too much to go back in there!” 

“Hey!—why are you stopping?” Reynir’s cries silenced them. Turning around Lalli watched as Reynir halted for but a second to yell at Emil, who was massaging his hand and yelling back that his hand was getting sore. Tuuri translated. 

“Keep going, we almost have him back!” Reynir said, and Lalli shook his head in pity before Emil’s shriek of revulsion and terror grabbed his attention again. 

_“What is that?”_

*

“Vad är det?” Emil kept screaming. Reynir had noticed it too.

His healing magic had been working; he could feel as well as see the injuries healing under his hands, but something wasn’t right. He wiped away blood from Lalli’s stomach, uncovering long strings of scars, undeniably letters—words, sentences— _A curse?_

“Reynir, Emil is asking ‘what is that?’” Tuuri said as Emil repeated Reynir’s action across Lalli’s neck. “What’s scaring him?” 

“I don’t know,” Reynir confessed. “They’re scars that look like words. Is this a curse placed on Lalli? It was a Finnish mage who attacked us.” 

Tuuri whimpered, but Reynir tried not to dwell on the matter. “Emil, I need you to gather all your energy and try again—please! This man meant to _kill_ Lalli! When I saw him in the forest, this sick fiend, he—I’ve never seen so much hatred for one person! He meant to kill Lalli. But we won’t let him win! We can bring Lalli back!” 

He heard Tuuri’s shuddering breath before she translated. Emil nodded his head, though his body was shaking with fatigue and the trauma. 

“We got this,” Reynir said, offering a smile that he hoped would be infectious. A moment later Reynir realized that when he was not releasing the healing spell into Lalli, he was gripping his hand, assessing that there was still warmth in it. Lalli, however, wasn’t squeezing back. 

“We got you,” Reynir promised Lalli just as Emil resumed pumping the bag valve.

*

“And that’s Tuuri there!” Láilá said happily, unaffected by anything else going on in the tank. She scanned around the room. “So many Norwegians here—”

“They’re not all Norwegians,” Lalli said distractedly, his full attention on Reynir. “Just that one.” 

“Is Onni around?” 

“Not nearby.” 

“Are you still angry with him?” Ensi Taika asked, chuckling lightly. Taking his hand, she brought him right before Reynir. His eyes were only on Lalli, his sole focus on guiding the runes to every inch of injury until Lalli’s entire body was encased in the soothing, healing spelling. Lalli stared as the green eyes, filled with so many emotions in them, impossibly too much inside, of hope and compassion and anger, teemed with tears. 

_Idiot_ , Lalli thought, but he wasn’t sure why he thought it. He smiled. 

Nearby Emil was losing his mind. They had been trying to revive Lalli for nearly an hour with no success, and the endless motion of pumping the bag was starting to get to him. The tears were falling freely despite his efforts to push them back, and he kept hissing, “Damn it, Lalli, open your eyes!” 

Lalli wished to pat Emil’s shoulder, tell him he was fine, only to remind himself that Emil did not believe in souls or gods. 

Tuuri kept a stream of conversation, but with each pause Lalli saw the shadow threatening to swallow and break her mind. The shame of being the cause for another episode was enough for him to turn away and peer at Sigrun and Mikkel. Mikkel was still not budging. He checked his watch, ready to pronounce Lalli dead while throwing worried glances at Reynir’s own neglected injuries. 

But Sigrun’s eyes were on Reynir. She believed in magic. She had worked with mages before in Norway, Tuuri had told Lalli a while ago, and there was something akin to mad pride in her eyes now as she saw Reynir cast his first successful string of magic before her. 

“We’re getting there!” Reynir announced suddenly behind Lalli. Tuuri hiccuped and translated through her sobbing. Emil gasped out, “Thank you!” as though he were in prayer, an odd thing for a nonbeliever. 

Lalli shook his head stubbornly. “I won’t come back.” 

But grinning, Sigrun rushed to the cabinets, pulled a few supplies and joined Reynir’s side. 

“I’m a universal donor,” she announced excitedly. “Are you going to do the honors, Mikkel, or should I help myself?” 

But without even waiting for Mikkel, she swabbed her arm with the disinfected pad, then Lalli’s, and inserted the line. Lalli felt the blood rush into his body a foot away from him. She lightly patted Lalli’s cheek. “Come on now, kid. Reynir’s sealing you up—wakey time! We need you up and scouting in a couple hours!” 

Seeing Sigrun join them gave Reynir and Emil newfound motivation. Lalli peered back into Reynir’s eyes, seeing something new in there—that certain kind of hope, something he once had—a tiny voice inside him wished it too but dreaded to admit again after the ordeal earlier tonight. 

Slowly he inched back towards Reynir then leaned forward till he was but an inch away from his face. With his chin rested in his palms, he stood there looking up at Reynir. 

“I’m lonely,” Lalli confessed to Reynir. “I hoped you would be my companion and friend when I saw you in that dream back when we first head out on this expedition. And then it turned out you didn’t even remember that dream. Didn’t know I almost died while trying to catch your eye. And you weren’t much of a mage. Still aren’t, really.” 

“But a future between you two still exists,” Láilá said. She walked around the room, studying each. “Although I am dead, I still have a pretty good grasp of beholding the future merely by peering into ones’ eyes. Impressive, eh, beloved?” 

Ensi Taika snorted. “Whatever you say, dear.” 

Láilá laughed. “Ah, Tuuri, sweet Tuuri. How endearing your tale together will be. Your parents were twins, sisters, who were once so close but parted over time. You two began your lives apart and distant but you will come to be as close as Aina and Laina once were. 

“Do be kind to Tuuri. You will grow close to her. Let her be a sister to you and you another brother to her. Our family has become small, and you will need each other throughout the years, especially you both. You will become one another’s confidants.” 

Passing Sigrun by, she said, “You have good relations with women in the work force, my grandson, and Sigrun will remind you so some of your favorite mentors in Saimaa, Taika included. Captain Sigrun will tire you out some days, but learn from her what you can. You are both strong fighters and will have good working relationship once you can get through that language barrier.” A mischievous smirk quirked the side of her lips as she quickly glanced at Tuuri then back at Sigrun. “Ah, I see, there!” 

But she did not elaborate further. 

To Emil, she nodded. “You both are only the only child in your families, and in him you find a kinship you’ve realized that you lack and miss. You will find a brother in him, a friend for many years; don’t let that one fight discourage you. You will be friends, and his children will be friends with yours—yes, you will become a father, Lalli, just as I and Ensi Taika were mothers.” 

Smiling, she continued on. Towards Mikkel, she walked around him. “He seems unreadable to everyone around him, but there is so much going on inside his head. Some pasts are best left kept tucked away than exposed for the whole world to see. But know you can trust him with your life. What you loved in Valttu—an older mentor, a father figure—you will find in Mikkel. But like you, he has secrets he must keep, so respect them. But know this: he cannot bear personal loss, so he is not entirely the stone wall you may wish him to be. Be gentle with him.” 

Lalli bowed his head, taking everything his grandmother told him to heart. 

Finally, Láilá made her way back to Reynir. Seeing him, her lips perked into the most devious grin. “Oh, Reynir. Your lives are deliciously entwined, the road stretching out far into the horizon, from the very moment you saw him in that dream—no,” she quickly added, glancing up at Ensi Taika with a knowing smile that both shared, “long before that. But do get to know him. Your Grandma and I both do find him agreeable.” 

Lalli raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I can. I wanted to, but… he annoys me… sometimes… frequently.” 

“Reminds me of myself and a certain someone,” Ensi Taika said, throwing a suggestive glance at Láilá. 

“You should hear the way Ensi Taika complained about me every now and again!” Láilá said gleefully. 

“Try a few times a week,” Ensi Taika corrected. 

“Try a few times a day!” Láilá laughed proudly. “The point is: like every beautiful song, you will find places where the melody flows beautifully, where the instruments clash terribly, where there are pauses and monotonous moments you just want to shake up. That is the life we each live, if we only let it. Allow your heart to break; Ensi Taika and I braved a few storms ourselves, even singed each other’s hair in a magic battle once—that fight got really ugly, didn’t it, Taika?”

Ensi Taika’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t remind me.” 

“But we got over it!” Láilá twirled in the middle of the tank. “Such is love! So get angry with him! Let him sweep you off your feet like he did in that dream! Experience the entire range of emotions with him—you’re going to have a whole life together, so better make it an eventful one! Learn his language and teach him our words! Break out of that barrier that Valttu thought he could take advantage of'! Am I not right in seeing what’s buried inside your own heart, grandson?” 

Blushing lightly, Lalli glanced down but nodded. 

“But I don’t know if I can do that,” he eventually said. 

“Why?” 

“I’m not…stable?” 

“Stable? Are any of us stable?” Láilá motioned around to them, counting Tuuri among them. “Your heart is the moon. The love within it will show from time to time, but even when you cannot express yourself, cannot express your love, it is there as surely as that lunar orb is still in the sky. Reynir will understand. He’ll put up with your shit.” 

Lalli stared at her, blinking but unable to find the words. 

“You’re a tad batty, is what our grandson wishes to tell you,” Ensi Taika said, coming to his rescue. “But he’s not a bad fellow at all. And I must say: Reynir Árnason is just like someone I used to know.” 

She gave Lalli a significant look, and his eyes grew wide, immediately understanding. 

“It was… an Icelandic mage?” he asked her, shocked. 

Ensi Taika nodded, grinning at the look of epiphany crossing Lalli’s face. He turned back to Reynir as the pieces began to fall into place. 

“Go to him,” Ensi Taika urged.

“See why you cannot join us just yet?” Láilá said. “Although…before you go, you do have some guests who would like to see you first.” 

“Lalli? Is that you?” 

Lalli froze, keeping his eyes on Reynir so he would not have to look back. His mouth instantly went dry. He had not heard the voice for many, many years, and yet he knew who it belonged to instantly. The love and affection poured into him right away, but there was also fear. 

“Dad?” Lalli finally managed. 

He was half-dreading Nartti reaching them. Lalli scarcely remember how his father looked like, even in photographs, the memories of his face obscured over time. But his voice was fair—that he remembered, a fair, beautiful voice who used to recite the Kalevala to him. A fair voice just like the man who had degraded and violated him just hours ago. 

“Why aren’t you greeting your father?” Ensi Taika asked. 

“I’m…afraid,” Lalli confessed. “I never really saw what he looked like, and I’m afraid he’ll look just like…” 

“Like Valttu?” Nartti said. His laughter was full of the warmth that Valttu’s voice lacked. “Then you will be pleasantly surprised. I am nothing like him.” Like Láilá and Ensi Taika, he had no fear in saying Valttu’s name, even after what Valttu had done to him. 

Slowly, Lalli turned around, realizing he was squeezing his eyes shut, before willing himself to open them and look up at his father. Then smiling, he took the few steps before being swept into his father’s arms in a warm welcoming embrace. 

“You look like me,” Lalli said, unable to stop grinning. “But your hair’s so long!” 

“Your mother loved it!” Nartti laughed. With their foreheads and the tips of their noses touching, Nartti recited a poem—one of Lalli’s favorite verses from the Kalevala, and it filled Lalli’s heart with warmth and joy.

_This is just like when I was a baby_ , he thought, leaning into his father’s arms, letting his voice lull him towards sleep. 

“I often used to tell this to you at night, right before I would hand you over to your mother to be tucked in for the night,” Nartti said, and he shifted slightly, showing Lalli the woman standing a few paces away. 

Lalli wasn’t prepared to be on his feet again so soon, released from his father’s arms so suddenly. Seeing his mother again brought Lalli near tears. She stood with tears in her eyes, studying him with utmost pride and love. 

Lalli took a step back, regained his nerves, then stepped forward, approaching her. He offered his mother a small smile, which she returned and signed _I love you_ with her hands, hand on her heart. Lalli repeated the gesture. They stared into one another’s eyes for a few moments, Aina’s eyes filled with tears though she kept smiling. 

Then she kissed the tips of her index and middle fingers at the same time, and brought her hand towards Lalli’s lips. 

The moment her fingers touched Lalli’s lips, the pain erupted. 

He was lying on his back, naked, cold, shivering, searing with the most agonizing pain. Someone screamed and tore off the mask from his face, and every great gulp of breath Lalli took wracked his body, his aching lungs screaming for air, for life. 

His stomach twisted, his head throbbed, the healing scars on his body burned—he cried and screamed and thrashed—someone grabbed his hand, another was screaming out orders—Lalli shrieked with pain, his heart pounded. 

The tank shook under Mikkel’s weight as he rushed towards him, appearing in Lalli’s vision, assessing. He was alive, and the tranquility of the afterlife fell away to the chaos of life. 

Lalli squeezed Reynir’s hand back.

*

Katla took a step back; she wiped the blood off her chin and grinned. Valttu stood, shivering, his eyes wide as a trail of blood trickled down from his tear-ducts. In fear he watched as his Luonto seeped out of him, after having called on the Serpent several times throughout the battle.

Hissing weakly, it slithered away from him before Katla came stomping down on it, pounding it to the ground along with her boar fylgja, laughing manically until it disappeared. 

Valttu coughed up blood, hissing out a plea for mercy. 

“A bloody coward without your little snake—ha!” Katla spat and raised her hands, forming the final rune in midair. 

Valttu’s eyes widened, defenseless and powerless without his magic. She cast the spell with all of her remaining might, the light bursting forth bright as lightning, blinding her, its force enough to shatter her previous shield and tear down trees. 

She did not see if Valttu managed to escape, but even if he had, it would be a long time before the foul fiend ever showed his face again. She paced around the glade, searching, finding no trace of him, but she was unconcerned. Even should he somehow catch up to the Hotakainen boy’s tent, Valttu would not even have strength to strangle him. 

“Serves you right,” she muttered in disgust. 

Her next step took her right beside the splatter of blood, and her heart squeezed with pity. A couple hours must have passed since Reynir had left with Lalli, and she hoped the one spell she taught him was enough to save the boy. 

_If he was smart and got the others to help him along, they could do it_ , she thought. _I do hope they managed to get him back._

A trail of blood marked the path Reynir had taken back to their camp, illuminated by the rising sun. 

Gathering her strength, Katla followed the path.

*

“Very sloppy work,” Mikkel commented gruffly, shaking his head as he continued a thorough examination of Lalli’s body.

“I’m sorry,” Reynir said miserably. 

Mikkel glanced up, regarding him with a little more sympathy. “You saved his life.” 

After Lalli had woken, Emil could no longer handle the sight. He had rushed out of the tank, his loud crying heard by all, and after getting Mikkel to take over, Sigrun had run out after him to comfort him. Tuuri was still in her quarantined area, her soft sobs audible from this distance. Reynir still hung around, worn out but not leaving Lalli’s side, even after Lalli finally settled down, falling asleep when Mikkel placed in an IV drip. 

Reynir and Lalli were still holding hands. 

“You have injuries yourself,” Mikkel reminded Reynir. “Let me see them—you're as white as a ghost!” 

“Ghosts aren't white—”

“Just lie down already!” 

It was only when Mikkel mentioned it that Reynir remembered the curses Valttu placed on him. He had been in the same position for nearly two hours, so the sudden movement sparked white stars in front of his eyes. With Lalli’s frame being so thin, Reynir was able to scoot onto the fold-down table with enough ease to allow Mikkel to examine him. 

As Mikkel went about his work he asked Reynir questions about the incident with Valttu. Reynir answered in full detail, though he found his throat tightening every time he remembered the scene. 

“This needs to be documented, and the more you tell me the better,” Mikkel said. “There are no secrets here. I’ve seen the marks of every act this Valttu committed.” He prodded one area in Reynir’s back before gasping in shock; Reynir gave a tiny cry of pain that he quickly stifled as not to wake Lalli. 

“You are lucky to be alive,” Mikkel commented cool as he jotted some notes. “This kade used… I guess ‘dark magic’ in attempt to crush your kidneys.” 

Reynir cringed. “Valttu he was… I don’t know what he did to Lalli’s body. I found him on top of Lalli carving things on him, and then he just ripped him open and—I know you don’t believe in magic but—”

“After tonight?” Mikkel said. Reynir detected a rare softness in his tone. “It’s becoming harder.”

*

A drop of dew fell on Reynir’s cheek, waking him out of his slumber. Glancing around himself, noting the greenery and the nearby bleating of sheep, Reynir pushed himself up by his elbows, shaking his head before jumping right to his feet. In the dreamworld his injuries didn’t feel quite so bad; in truth he felt nothing at all. Either Mikkel had done well healing him, or his injuries didn’t extend into this realm of reality.

Either way, Reynir’s mind was filled to the brim with another thought, and he ran across the length of his Haven, ignoring the sheepdog as it chased after him and barked. 

The dream-water splashed madly about his feet as he ran, panting, his heart pounding. He only stopped the moment his toes touched Lalli’s Haven, suddenly unsure how the other mage would feel about having a visitor. Lalli wasn’t very happy the one time Reynir barged in; in truth, Reynir had been so excited with the new experience of being in a dream he had never stopped to dwell on the etiquette. But he was certain Lalli had no interest in interacting with anyone coming in without his approval; he’d had enough violation to last him a lifetime. 

But in that moment Lalli passed two trees of his forest, stopping just a couple feet away from Reynir. 

Their gazes locked. Lalli said nothing, but Reynir was heartbroken (though unsurprised) to see the haunted look in Lalli’s eyes. He offered a sympathetic smile, and that was when Lalli broke the gaze, turning his head away. Even from here, Reynir could tell Lalli was miserable. 

“Uh, hi!” Reynir managed uncertainly. “I just wanted to see you! Just to, you know, make sure everything was fine—that you are fine. I don’t want you to be alone if you, you know, don’t want to—I can leave if you want me to!” 

A few moments passed. Reynir was starting to think Lalli was waiting for him to leave. He stood stock-still save for swallowing thickly once, his heart visibly pounding, trembling his chest and throat even from this distance. Reynir wanted to say Lalli could trust him, but he was certain Lalli had heard those same words not too many hours ago. 

A nod came. Slowly, Lalli turned his head back towards Reynir and gave him another nod and motioned for him to follow. 

Lalli said nothing as they walked past trees. Reynir expected Lalli to take him back to his raft, but he didn’t, taking him instead to a glade. A cold shiver ran up Reynir’s spine, thinking back to the glade he had found Valttu and Lalli in. A river fed into a pond here, and Lalli sat beside it, casting his eyes towards it and pointedly avoiding Reynir. 

“Th…thank you,” Lalli eventually said. The words were very soft, but Reynir caught them. A smile began on his face, but then Lalli shot him a cold glare. “I was seeing everything. You had everyone helping you. I didn’t want to come back! That m-m-man—that _kade_!—he murdered me! You did a terrible thing dragging me back to life! You have no idea how much pain I'm in!”

“I didn’t want him to win,” Reynir said when he could finally manage to speak, staring at Lalli with shock. “Call me selfish, but I hate seeing the bad guys win! I’m sorry your body hurts right now, but maybe it won’t after a day or two?” 

“These are not normal injuries!” 

“They were cast by magic, I know! He attacked me too!” 

“He’s a kade, idiot! Kades are full of jealousy!” 

Reynir’s lower lip trembled. “Then that’s more the reason to wipe that grin off his face. I’ve seen what jealousy can do. My girlfriend—”

“Girlfriend?” Lalli’s eyes widened and his head perked up for a moment before purposely returning to his former hunched position. 

“Former girlfriend,” Reynir clarified, arching an eyebrow at Lalli’s reaction. “I’ve had a boyfriend and girlfriend before. Not at the same time, of course. Just…if you were wondering.” 

“Oh. Carry on.” 

“One of the village girls—well, she was in our school but only for a few months—got really jealous when I began dating a girl named Eskja,” Reynir began. “There was a village festival, and she and her friends tormented Eskja: they poured sheep blood on her, ripped her dress, smeared her in mud. I took her away and never left her side. If you think it meant making her win, it didn’t. I knew how to sew; I asked my sister Fura if I could borrow one of her old dresses, and I modified it so Eskja could wear it. I lent her the family’s washroom to bathe in. My brothers and sisters followed us back to the festival and dared anyone to try to pull any more tricks on us. No one did!” 

“You sound like a really nice boyfriend,” Lalli said hoarsely. Then after a long pause: “Why aren’t you two…”

“Together? Her heart eventually loved someone else,” Reynir explained with a smile. “We were still young, still figuring things out. I helped them get together.” 

Lalli glanced away at some point beyond two trees on the other side of the glade. “Oh.” 

Unsure of what to say, Reynir merely nodded. “Yeah.” He scooted over an inch, hoping Lalli didn’t mind. Lalli didn’t give him any attention, his eyes fixated on the point, but Reynir could see the shadow falling over Lalli’s eyes again. 

“You gave us all quite a scare,” Reynir added in the kindest tone he could manage after a while. “You said you saw everything. I hope you saw how much we all cared for you. Even Emil.” 

Lalli stiffened for a moment before turning back towards him. Reynir smiled. 

“I saw how he looked after you two fought,” he said. “It happens. He still cares for you enough to come help revive you. And Tuuri cares! And Sigrun! And Mikkel! We did things our own way, but we all care for you! I hope you heard us.” 

“No. You were all using your weird languages.” 

Reynir’s shoulders fell. “Oh…” 

Lalli frowned, and after a moment spoke again. “No, I could hear everything you were saying.” 

“Then you know how much we—”

“It doesn’t matter! By the time I wake up I won’t be able to understand any of you any more!” 

“Then learn our languages! I can teach you Icelandic! Learn Swedish and you can understand Emil, Sigrun, and Mikkel!” Reynir grinned. “I know it might take time, but maybe Tuuri can help all of us! I can bring it up to her next time I speak with her! I’m sure Sigrun will appreciate the idea. If anything, tonight showed that we all need to understand each other!” 

Lalli shrugged. “It won’t matter.” 

“Why?” 

Reynir moved up till he was sitting right next to Lalli. Lalli hunched away from him as if cowering under his height. He had half a mind to embrace him but didn’t wish to touch him—not after what had happened. 

“I made a terrible mistake,” Lalli said. “Instead of scouting, I went to this kade, Valttu, and… got myself nearly killed. I was trying to impress everyone. I wanted to find all the books we could ever get our hands on so we could call the expedition a success, and it would be because of _me_. Valttu promised that. And… I liked him. I even kissed him…”

He glanced away, eyes full of shame, but Reynir nodded in understanding. 

“There’s nothing wrong with kissing someone you admire,” Reynir said gently. “You didn’t know at the time.” 

Shaking his head, Lalli released a breath. “He came to me while I slept, singing a song from my past…” 

Closing his eyes, he began to sing. Reynir gave a start upon realizing that the words were coming out in as Finnish, but they were lovely—more than lovely, they were magic itself, and somehow he thought he could understand them. They moved his heart, made him ache for a another time, another place, painting pictures of a place long gone. 

When Lalli was done, it was hard not to miss the tears in his eyes. Lalli didn’t bother to wipe them away. 

“You… you sing beautifully,” Reynir said. “The song was really nice. I think I’m about to cry.”

“This is how Valttu lured me in,” Lalli said. “It was a song my family wrote and sang together, and he knew about it because he made himself part of my family.” His body trembled. “I hate this song. The words are ringing in my head, and all I can think of is how he had me pinned to the ground as he carved up those curses all over my body, and how he sang this song while doing all those things to me.”

Gingerly he got up and made his way back to the pond. He cast a look at Reynir. 

“Don’t touch me, whatever I do next.” 

“I promise,” Reynir said, hoping this was something Valttu had never said. 

His encouraging smile was challenged the moment Lalli began shedding off his clothes. He had seen Lalli completely bare for close to two hours, starting with back in the forest glade. But it was different. Lalli was dying; his body had been torn. But here before him, Lalli’s body was whole, and he was baring himself voluntarily in front of Reynir. 

Was he testing Reynir? 

Lalli stood straight after casting off the last of his garments, then immediately Reynir saw the problem. Running around his body were the scars of the words Valttu had carved in. Back in the waking world, Reynir had thought he managed to heal them enough to become invisible, leaving behind smooth skin. But here they shone faintly but obvious. 

“Um, what are they?” Reynir asked, hoping his worry would not cause Lalli to panic. 

But Lalli just shook his head. 

“Keep your promise,” he warned as he walked over to the pond and peered in. The reflection provided him a better view of his entire body, though Reynir wished he hadn’t done it. But perhaps this was fine—Lalli needed to know, and perhaps having to do it with a friend nearby was comforting for him. 

And then the scars began to glow—a sickening odd shade of green, the words vivid against his skin. Reynir gasped. 

“What are they?” he asked. 

Lalli’s face paled.

“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. 

“Is it a curse? Did Valttu place a curse on you?” He knew he shouldn’t be panicking. It would only rile up Lalli and Reynir didn’t mean to, but he was as alarmed as Lalli appeared in that moment. “What do they say?” 

Lalli shook his head. “I don’t know.” 

His hands ghosted over his torso, his chest, neck, face, his arms…

“I don’t know…I don’t know…” 

He tried reading the words, his eyes growing wider by the second…

The scream that followed nearly stopped Reynir’s heart. 

_“VALTTU YOU BASTARD!”_

Lalli clamped his hands over his ears, his fingers gripping his hair and tugging down as each wave of ear-splitting shrieks ripped out of him in terribly, heart-wrenchingly, drawing tears out of Reynir. 

_“LIAR! MURDERER! RAPIST! KADE!”_

Reynir’s first instinct was to run over and embrace him, but he remembered his promise, and he understood why Lalli made him promise in advance. He didn’t want to be touched while this vulnerable, not after everything. He trusted Reynir enough to share with him this moment, to show him the full extent of what Valttu had done. But he did not want to be touched, as much as hugs always comforted Reynir. That was understandable, really. 

Nonetheless, Reynir still found himself on his feet, tears running down freely. It was okay, he kept telling himself. Let Lalli release all of the hurt. It wasn’t good to keep it bottled in; but when Lalli began hitting himself on the head, Reynir took action. 

“Please! Lalli—please!” he inched closer until his hand was just an inch away from Lalli. “It’s okay. You’re upset. You have every reason to. Let it out, but don’t hurt yourself!” 

Lalli took shuddering breaths, listening to Reynir’s softly spoken strings of comfort, but his attempts at soothing Lalli only lasted for a few moments. 

“He left nothing,” Lalli hissed through his teeth. “He’s left nothing of me!” 

“He didn’t,” Reynir insisted. “You are here. You are alive. This is your Haven. You can still make that song mean something good to you again. And you have so many people who love you out there waiting for you! You have your family—”

“My parents and grandmothers are dead,” Lalli said flatly. His glare shot the smile right out of Reynir’s face. 

“Oh. Um, but you have Onni! Hey, do you want to see him? Maybe he can take a look at your arms and—”

“ _No_. Never say anything to him about what you've seen!” 

“Okay, okay, fair enough! There’s still people here who love you! There’s Tuuri and Emil and Sigrun and Mikkel and Kisa—and me! I’ll always be here! I can stop by your Haven to check on you every night if you want me to! And it’s okay if you get angry with me; I’m used to it!”

That last part was meant to lighten the air between them, and Reynir offered a big smile in hopes of making Lalli feel better. He didn’t, but he kept staring at Reynir, panting heavily, before taking in a big breath and just sighing. His lower lip trembled. 

“I hate you so much.” The words were full of… an emotion. Not of hate, but gratitude, if Reynir had to pinpoint it. 

Reynir smiled and shrugged. “Thanks. I like you too. A lot, actually.” 

Lalli stared at him for the longest while, unblinking. Then he stepped closer, cautiously, like a cat testing how safe it would be to get closer. He inched closer until he was right against him. 

He gave no command, didn’t tell Reynir to touch or not to touch, but suddenly his face was buried in Reynir’s chest, and moments later, Reynir felt Lalli’s entire body quiver with his sobbing. 

His resolve breaking, Reynir wrapped his arms around Lalli, taking care to only touch his shoulders, but keeping the touch as comforting as possible. He didn’t need Lalli to tell him to look away so he would not see him cry. He let him have his moment of vulnerability. 

Lalli’s voice was still hoarse from crying when the first verse of the song carried out of his lips, slowly, and repeated. 

“Say it,” he ordered Reynir, and Reynir realized what Lalli was doing. He repeated each line, over and over until Lalli was content enough to teach him the next line of the song. They remained in that position the entire time. Reynir would worried that Lalli would get cold, but Lalli did not make any move to cover himself. With Reynir’s coat practically wrapped around him, he was warm enough. 

And perhaps he felt safer that way.

*

A lone miserable-looking tank loomed ahead. A sheet was stretched above it, pinning it to the ground. That must be where the boys’ camp was located. Not many people came to this part of the Silent World.

The door of the tank was thrown wide open, telling her the people within were awake. It had to be them. Katla walked about cautiously, her heart tightening anxiously for any sounds of mourning for the Hotakainen boy. 

“It’s okay, he’s fine now.” 

Her foot froze in mid-step. 

_I know that voice!_

The quirk of Katla’s smile quickly disappeared given the graveness of the situation. She pressed herself against some trees, and leaned sideways to see and hear the two better. 

They were still in their bedclothes but wide awake and shaken, sitting around a campfire that had been extinguished the night before. The one who spoke was, of course, Sigrun Eide, a former colleague of Katla’s, and the other was a younger man. He spoke in a language different from Norwegian which Katla was fluent in—perhaps Swedish—but she was still able to make out most of what he said. His hands were drenched in blood. Sigrun’s arm was bruised, and Katla didn’t have to guess twice what her role was in saving Lalli. 

“I just couldn’t take it anymore,” the boy was saying. “There was blood everywhere—he was dead!—but Reynir and Tuuri were yelling at me to keep going and my hands hurt from pumping that valve— _he was dead, I’m telling you!_ We were at it for over an hour, and Lalli wasn’t budging! I couldn’t see his chest rise or fall; Tuuri said Reynir saw a heartbeat, but I didn’t! I only knew I had to get him to breath, but he wasn’t breathing! _He was dead!_ I don’t know how the Icelander did it, but when Lalli moved, I snapped! My mind couldn’t take it!” 

He took a shuddering breath and lowered his head. 

Sigrun rested a comforting hand in a rare show of comfort. “He’s alive, he’s okay. We’re all okay. Mikkel is getting information about the man who did this, and if we find him, we’ll have Tuuri run over him, okay?” 

“Can I first… shove an explosive down his throat?” 

Sigrun grinned despite also being shellshocked. “Sure! But not until I’ve introduced this guy to my blade!” 

The boy laughed—briefly, then hiccuped which quickly dissolved into silent trembling sobs. Sigrun pulled him into an embrace protectively, nuzzling her lips over the top of his golden head to hide her own misting eyes. 

Katla stepped back, moving as silently as a shadow, until she was as far from the two teammates as possible. 

_They will be all right. As well this Tuuri and Mikkel_ , she thought as she started down the road. She stopped and turned back around, giving the tank another good look. _Farewell, then, for now, Reynir! You’ve done a fine job leading everyone._

Katla grinned before turning her back on the tank. _I will be seeing you again._

*

Just a couple days ago, Lalli hated everything about Reynir.

_"I need to have a word with Lalli."_

Lalli responded to Reynir’s smile with a scowl, snatching the headphones from his hands before shoving him aside and taking the seat before the radio. He placed the headphones on, screwing up his nose when he realized how much of Reynir’s lingering scent was still on it, but not wishing to see Tuuri or Emil nearby, he shoved his hood back over his head, blocking everyone out. 

“Lalli?”

“What do you want?” Lalli grumbled into the microphone. 

“Don’t give me that,” Onni said firmly. “Reynir just told me everything about the ghosts—”

“Oh, did he?” 

There was a strangled pause. “Do you have a problem with him?” 

Lalli’s eye twitched, unable to get Reynir’s scent off the damn headphones. He thought back to the first dream, the dream-water, the hands grabbing him under. “Yeah. Everything.” 

“He doesn’t seem the sort to do anything against someone. Am I right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” 

“No…” Lalli bit his lip. It really wasn’t a lie… Reynir was just an idiot. He checked to make certain Tuuri wasn’t nearby, all the while getting another whiff of Reynir—just how long was it planted against his head? His scent… it wasn’t bad… there wasn’t anything wrong with it; Lalli rather liked it— _no, it’s disgusting!_ “No, he didn’t hurt me. I just don’t like him. Reynir is… stupid. Stupid weird foreign mage.” 

He could hear Onni sighing deeply. “Lalli, whatever you have against him, just drop it. Now’s not the time for this. I’ve spoken to him, and he’s not that bad. He’s still new at magic. He’s only discovered his abilities.” 

It should have thawed Lalli’s attitude towards Reynir, but he was too stubborn, remembering how the water suffocated him in the dream. “I don’t care.” 

“Lalli!” 

“Fine!” He wasn’t going to. He hated Reynir and was never going to like that stupid no-mage. 

Onni took another deep sigh. “Now, I want to teach you something that will repel ghosts, should you run across them again…”

*

Lalli watched Reynir leave his Haven. There was no sense in calling him back as much as he wanted him to stay. He knew Reynir would have, but he could sense the other boy was slipping away from the dreamworld, and he didn’t want to be pulled out of it along with him. Not yet.

He kept Reynir with him until they could both sing the “Harmony of Hope” together. It was the first words of Finnish Reynir ever spoke, Lalli realized, and all because Lalli taught him. Reynir probably didn’t know what the individual words meant; he was only sounding off what he heard, but he got the enunciations right, for the most part, enough to make singing with him repel Valttu’s voice out of Lalli’s head. 

Reynir’s singing voice was soothing, when he sang softly; the words carried his optimism and jovial spirit; they were exactly what Lalli needed to associate the song with, rather than the blood and the painful memories. He clung to that thought. 

Lalli shivered, realizing how very naked he was without Reynir’s coat around him. As he slipped back into his clothes, he thought back to the conversation he had with Onni not too long ago, so shortly after waking up when his Luonto returned to him. In shame he realized how much of this incident was his doing: had he listened to Onni and just let go of his personal animosity towards Reynir, they could have been friends. Instead he had allowed himself to be seduced by a kade.

He could not blame Reynir for abandoning him this time; Reynir had not been aware before, and this time, this time Reynir _was_ aware, _did_ see his Luonto bleeding and bruised. And he nearly died while trying to save him. Now, Lalli was certain, there was no denying Reynir would have helped him before, if he knew what was happening. The thought was humbling and shaming at once. 

“I’ve been a fool all this time,” Lalli mumbled to himself. Perhaps one day he would tell Reynir about that first meeting. Not to fill him with shame. Just to explain why he initially hated him so much. 

He smiled before a stroke of pain flashed throughout his body. 

Lalli approached the pond. Getting onto his knees, he stroked his neck where light from the curse-scars reflected on the surface. Then he pulled back his sleeves, examining the scars there with a far calmer mind than he had previously. 

As before, he could not read the words. Valttu must have written them in another language, or the words were too faded into his skin for him to discern their meaning. But whatever they were, they made his hair stand on end. 

Valttu planned for this: should Lalli survive, Valttu wanted Lalli to see these scars every time, know he had been marked by Valttu’s blade, his violating words carved into his body as a reminder of this night. Perhaps there was something else in them: a spell of some kind, a curse, whatever it was, he didn’t care. He just wanted them out and gone. 

As he thought this, the words disappeared from sight, fading into his body and leaving behind smooth skin. Touching his arm, Lalli’s concern only deepened. He could not imagine defeating Valttu would be this easy. Grandmother Láilá had faced him off; so had his mother and father and Grandma Ensi Taika. He had taken them all down. Lalli couldn’t stand a chance. 

He couldn’t go to Onni either. He was done feeling ashamed for his inadequacy, and the thought of having to answer every one of Onni’s questions made him sick to his stomach. 

“Bastard.” Lalli glared at his reflection in the pond, though he did not see himself, but Valttu. “You did this because you _knew._ You knew I would not look for help, that my stupid pride and shame would stop me.” 

_What would I have done next? Went back to him in hopes of finding a cure?_ The sudden thought brought a sickening cold twist to the pit of his stomach. Lalli’s glare turned into pure loathing. He cursed at the pond. 

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to destroy me from every angle. You’re showing me that I have no one to turn to. I either die or go back running to you. Damn you, _damn you, damn you!_ ” 

Lalli stood up, giving the reflection of Valttu on the pond a death-glare. “I won’t let you win! You tried to keep me away from everyone—you promised you would make me prove my worth to everyone, but I never needed to! I have people here who love me. I have friends! I have seen how much they care about me! You won’t ever have that power over me!” 

His cries echoed in the empty forest, unheard, before he realized he was yelling to no one. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself. 

“I suppose, irony of ironies, I should thank you for bringing me closer to that weird foreign mage.” 

That was when another memory from his near-death experience returned: Ensi Taika’s face and her final words to him, that smile. 

Lalli’s eyes grew wide. He almost forgot about that exchange. His heart leapt, and he rushed over to his raft. 

It was a peculiar place to hide it in, but his grandmother had entrusted the item to him in full confidence before Aunt Tuulikki and Uncle Jukka adopted him for a short while in Saimaa. Lalli and she had used all the magic they knew to ensure the water never affected it. In one of the lumbers a small compartment was hollowed out, though to the outside no passing mage would never notice it. Lalli pulled away the door and retrieved the item, then sat atop his raft, carefully placing the book over his lap. 

Grandma Ensi Taika never said anything about this book, except that it was given to her during her final dream-meeting with a certain mage. It was meant to be kept secret, kept forever away from sight. 

Lalli turned to the first page. He had peeked at it before as a child, curious of its contents. Now, he understood why he could not read the handwriting. It was not Finnish. The dreamworld did not translate it. It would need a speaker to read it. 

Grandma could have given it to Tuuri; she knew Icelandic. But no… somehow, she knew it would have to be Lalli to keep it until the day Reynir came into his life. Somehow, she knew. 

“What’s in here, Reynir?” Lalli asked under his breath, flipping the pages before closing it and holding the book against his chest, his mind reeling with the possibilities of what lay within its pages.

He could not wait until the next time he saw Reynir in the dreamworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping in mind what I said in the above author’s notes: Tuulikki and Jukka are reimagined here as Lalli’s aunt and uncle who adopted him for a short time (In the Mageverse Tuulikki is Nartti’s sister, thus a relation on Lalli’s father’s side of the family.) Understandably they may have been mistaken for his parents! :) My Dreamwidth info page will have its own family trees and brief bios of everyone to make this easier! 
> 
> Second to last scene, with Lalli and Onni, takes place right after [page 527](http://www.sssscomic.com/comic.php?page=527). The line _"I need to have a word with Lalli."_ is quoted from that page. 
> 
>  
> 
> And…we are now headed towards a project I’m super excited to get started on! :D There won’t be any Valttu in the next work, as he is part of a subseries within this series. But this upcoming major work is basically what began all of the “Saga of the Mages.” The title is _There’s A Room (Where The Light Won’t Find You)_. The first chapter’s already mostly written up and will be up shortly, so be on the lookout for that! :D Also, some eagle-eyed people may recognize the title from somewhere. I won’t say any more on that. :3


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